


Two Days

by ella_minnow



Series: King's Own [4]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-16
Updated: 2012-06-16
Packaged: 2017-11-07 21:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/435660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ella_minnow/pseuds/ella_minnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You <i>bastard</i>!" she said.  "It's been two days.  <i>Two days</i> and not a word from or about you.  I thought you were dead!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Days

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at [lmno @ livejournal](http://ella-minnow.livejournal.com/15752.html#cutid1) on 01/09/2003. Extra thanks to mcee and graycastle for the fabulous beta work.

_Assaye  
India, 1803_

"You bastard!"

Orlando saw the boot flying at his head and managed to duck just in time, wincing as the quick move pulled at the bruise on his right shoulder left by the kickback of his musket. When he looked up, he saw that Liv had another boot in her hand and was about to send it after its mate. He quickly dashed the rest of the way into her tiny tent and halted the throw by wrapping the fingers of one hand securely around her wrist and hooking his other arm behind her waist.

She glared up at him, eyes dark and angry, hair falling out of the long braid she wore it in to dangle in wisps around her face. "Let me go," she hissed, pulling at her wrist. Orlando merely tightened his grip and kept her tucked against him while she twisted and writhed, spitting curses into his tattered red uniform jacket.

Deciding that struggling was getting her nowhere, she leaned forward and bit him, hard, on the shoulder. She'd managed, and probably not by accident, to sink her teeth into the very centre of the bruise.

"Bloody hell, Liv!" he yelled, letting her go and stepping back, one hand coming up to rub at the injured spot. "What are you on about, you daft woman?!"

"You _bastard_!" she said again. "It's been two days. _Two days_ and not a word from or about you. I thought you were dead!"

He blinked, startled. "What?"

"I thought you were dead, you bloody ass! I was _grieving_ for you until yesterday, then Christine mentioned she'd seen you at the camp when she was in to see Sean." She punctuated each sentence with a sharp stab of her finger into his chest.

"I..." It hadn't occurred to him that Liv wouldn't know, would have had no way to find out that he'd survived Assaye. Everything had been so chaotic that he hadn't had time to think and, when he had, all he'd been able to think of was his regiment, his mates, all dead. "God, Liv, I'm sorry. I didn't know you didn't... I'm sorry."

Something in the tone of his voice caught her attention and she stopped jabbing at him. Whatever she saw in his face when she cocked her head to the side and peered up into it drained the last of her anger away and, suddenly, her glare gave way to a softer expression.

"Are you alright?" The question was quiet, gentle, and it was all suddenly too much for Orli. He tried to answer, to grit his teeth and force a smile and a 'yes' out, but he found himself shaking his head instead. No. No, he wasn't alright.

She stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and drew his head into the crook of her neck. He closed his arms around her waist, too tight, but she didn't protest, just ran gentle fingers through his hair as a convulsive, choked sob escaped his control, pulled from his chest against his will by her unexpected shift from anger to tenderness. He tried to apologise again, lips moving against her skin, but she shook her head, cut him off.

"It's alright, Orli-luv," she murmured, running her fingers through his tangled hair, feeling the grit of sand and gunpowder and a bit of hard, dried blood matting the ends of his curls together.

Orlando gave a convulsive shudder, burrowing into her arms, pressing his face into her neck. He had spent the past two days not thinking about it, not _feeling_ , but suddenly he felt as though he was being suffocated by his grief. Wrapped in Liv's warmth, in the feel of her skin, he simply let go.

Liv staggered a little under the sudden increase of Orli's weight as he sagged against her. She locked her knees and pushed back against him, propping him up as he clung to her with new desperation, his fingers biting into the soft skin at her waist even through the layers of her clothes. The collar of her dress was warm and wet with his tears and she couldn't, didn't even try to bite back the answering tears that flowed unchecked down her own cheeks to fall back onto his shoulder.

Murmuring soothing non-words beneath her breath, Liv dropped soft, quick kisses against his ear, his neck, against anywhere she could reach. His painfully tight grip on her didn't loosen, not even as his sobs eventually slowed, then stopped altogether as he began returning the kisses, pressing his lips to the line of her jaw, licking his tears from her skin.

"It's alright, Orli-luv," she said again before he pressed his lips to hers, his kiss as desperate as his embrace. She met him with equal desperation, her paralysing fear of the last two days having finally, finally dissipated.

End.


End file.
